The Proxies
by xXbellathestrangeXx
Summary: Hey, guys! So I wasn't sure how to categorize this, but it's a creepypasta fic about the more well-known proxies and the creepy world they inhabit. Semi-serious plot in mind here. Rated M for language and violence. Expect appearances from Jeff, Slendy, Zalgo, Ben, etc and so forth, you know these guys.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, guys! Bellathestrange, here! So a friend of mine recently introduced me to the wonderful realm of creepypasta and it's safe to say I have lost my soul. I immediately fell in love with the fan base and who doesn't enjoy getting scared out of their pants every once in awhile? Anyway, the further a delved into the fandom, the more I started to see this kind of really cool reoccurring head canon that all the pasta proxies are stuck in this misfit band against zalgo and his minions in the under realm. This and the opportunity to do justice to my own head canon personalities for these characters was the birth of this fic. I plan to try and include as many of the more popular proxies as possible. Also, I want to stress that although I love crackfics with these characters, this is a more serious storyline. Not entirely, however. It can't be totally serious with Jeff's trolling and Ben's sarcasm, which I want to explore. I also want to stress that this is not a shipping fic, I really want to focus more on plot and character, so sorry, but the shippers won't find what they want here! You'll definitely get some BroTP feels though. Although this is not my first fanfiction, this is the first one I'm publishing, so cut me a little slack. I felt it was necessary to explain how Jeff, being human (at first) got in league with all these other proxies and the under realm in general, so that'll be the focus of part 1. Okay, I'm done rambling, enjoy!**

Chapter I: That Tall Motherfucker in the Woods

Jeff was walking through the woods after a hard night's work, white hoodie still stained with the family's blood. Not that he felt any remorse. The parents had been fighting for years, probably on the verge of killing each other themselves. The older brother had been a worthless pothead with no intention of ever amounting to anything special. And the kid had been bullied at school every day, probably borderline suicidal. Your typical suburban family. He'd been watching them for awhile before deciding to kill. They'd never be happy in this world alive. _Now they can sleep forever . . ._

His tattered old converse crunched in the dead undergrowth and autumn leaves underfoot. There was an abandoned shack nearby he'd been able to spend the days at undisturbed. None of the locals ever set foot in these woods. Some superstitious mumbo jumbo. And with how outcasted that family had been in the stuck-up, upper middle class town, they probably wouldn't be very missed. He might be able to stay here a little longer than usual.

A rustling from behind made him jump. In a flash he spun around, knife at the ready. He shined a flashlight around, stolen from the family's home so he wouldn't have to stumble around in the dark and lose his way again to the temporary shelter. He couldn't see anything but trees in the limited illumination. Jeff cursed himself under his breath. Probably just the wind or some squirrel. Why the hell was he so jumpy? Probably still on edge from his kill that night. He reminded himself that _he_ was the monster lurking in the woods and continued on.

A few minutes later he heard it again, this time closer. Now he was getting annoyed. What was it, _two_ animals? "Who's out there?" he demanded, not sure if anyone was, but with just enough of a lingering doubt that someone might be. No one in sight. He gripped the knife tighter and called out just in case, "Better not let me find you!" He headed further into the woods, glaring down the shadows and daring someone, anyone, to come closer.

He slowed down he came across a tall, wide oak, more dead and daunting than the rest of the forest. It didn't look familiar, but what caught Jeff's attention was a frayed piece of notebook paper nailed to the trunk. He tore it off and read it.

HELP ME

The letters were scrawled in large print, hurriedly as if whoever wrote it had been in some imminent danger.

A faint, foreboding drumbeat sounded in his head. What the hell was that? His heartbeat?

A twig snapped nearby, _waaaay_ too close for comfort. Jeff whipped around, knife at the ready. "Who is that! Are you following me?!" Still nothing. "You better stay the fuck away from me!" he warned the darkness, heading deeper into the woods, a little faster this time.

He eventually came across a tunnel. There was probably some industrial warehouse nearby. Jeff went inside, thinking he could shake this fucker off his tail. If anyone was even there. Or even stupid enough to follow him.

He could see another note taped towards the end of the tunnel. Where had these things come from? He walked over to it and read it.

ALWAYS WATCHES

NO EYES

There was a crude picture accompanying the message - a circle for a head with x's where the eyes should be. Who the hell had put these here? "What the - ?"

Jeff glanced behind him and nearly jumped out of his skin. He couldn't help a startled gasp. For the briefest of seconds he'd caught a glimpse of something at the far entrance of the tunnel. It wasn't doing anything, just staring. But . . . it didn't seem . . . Jeff shook the notion out of his head. No. _No._ Ghosts and monsters don't exist. It was just a person. A really stupid person, but a person. They probably just ran away. And if they hadn't . . . "Who's there?!" he demanded. No answer. "I'll kill you, you hear me! Stay away from me!"

His pace quickened to a light sprint out of the tunnel. An eery ringing in his ears was making him uneasy. He couldn't shake the note out of his head. _Always watches, no eyes. Always watches, no eyes._

He stumbled through some tanks over by the warehouse. He remembered this place. He'd had to crash here last time he'd gotten lost. He rounded a corner, towards the direction of the shack. He froze.

What. The. FUCK.

Jeff quickly turned and ran in the opposite direction, not quite mustering a yell of surprise. It had no eyes. It had no face. It was impossibly tall. What the fuck was it?

"What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck," he muttered, trying to process the image of what he'd just seen. The ringing was getting louder. He was starting to feel sick. Was he imagining things? Was it real? Was he going crazy? "It's not human. It's not human. It's not - "

He yelled again and quickly changed course, running faster. It had appeared right in front of him. _Definitely_ not human. He ran as far as he could, leaving a string of startled profanities in his wake. "What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck." If it wasn't human, he couldn't kill it. If he couldn't kill it . . . oh, god. What _was_ it?!

He continued running, not even daring to let his unblinking eyes stray anywhere behind him. It had no face. Oh, god, it was so freaky! Why the hell was he so scared? He was a killer! But that thing, what was _it_?! He might be a killer, but he was still only human! A human that was mortal, a human that could die! Monsters don't die, ghosts are already dead! Suddenly Jeff the Killer knew what _real_ nightmares were made of, the stuff that had kept him and Liu up at night checking the closets and under the bed when they were kids- not killers. Killers are the least of a child's fears. No, they hid from ghosts, monsters. Things that aren't supposed to exist in this world. How do you fight something that's not human?! Fucking holy water?!

Jeff stumbled by a patch of boulders. He barely took the time to read the note that was taped to them. On it was an eery, too-tall, too-slender stick figure and a one word message.

FOLLOWS

"Yeah, I know he follows already, but how do you - OOOOOoooooh GOD!" He booked it out of there as fast as he'd come. "Whatthefuckwhathefuck, shitfuck, why are you so scar-…." He was running out of breath. The ringing was turning into a high-pitched static that was making him feel dizzy and nauseous. His running pace turned into a clumsy stumble. He'd never exactly been a track star in school. He had to stop. He'd faint or die of a heart attack before any monster could come and kill him first. He stopped in front of an old, sketchy-looking well that probably hadn't been used in centuries. He leaned on the edge, trying to remember how to breathe. It came out as coughs, the static growing even louder and making him feel trapped, strangled, like he was drowning on air. This was it. He had to turn and fight. How fitting- a monster pitted up against another monster. He turned and faced his assailant.

The last image he had was an impossibly tall man in a suit at his face, limbs as thin as a spider's legs, monstrous tentacles flailing from his back. He made no sound, only stared. All Jeff could hear was him sucking in his own last breaths. He lost all nerve. He froze. He couldn't bring the knife up fast enough. The tentacles wrapped around him, seizing him on the spot. He couldn't move, he couldn't breath. Then black. Everything was black. For the first time in what had to have been about five or six years, Jeff felt was it was like to shut his eyes tight against the world around him.

**Oh, no! Slendy got Jeff?! Don't worry, guys, this is only the beginning! Part 2 is on the way! Don't forget to review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome back! I promised the next part would come soon. Onward!**

Chapter 2: Welcome to the Family

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

. . .

"Hey. Did you hear me? I said. Get. Up."

Jeff slowly faded back to consciousness, a miasma of distorted shapes blurring into focus.

"Jeez. Maybe he _is_ dead."

"He must've fainted."

"I think you might've overdone it, Slendy."

"Quiet. He's stirring."

Lavalamp-like blobs morphed into definitive profiles of heads, shoulders . . . people, there were people staring at him . . .

No . . . Wait a minute . . .

Jeff's already wide eyes snapped into focus. Blood. Masks. What the fuck was going on?

Jeff scrambled back as far as he could. His back met the arm of a couch. "Where am I?! What's going on?! Who- _what_ are you?!"

A young girl, about eight, with long, curly brown hair and impossibly bright green eyes gave him an offended pout. Both she and her frilly pink nightgown were covered in blood and her face, while mimicking innocence, reflected an intelligence and experience that was beyond her appearance. "Hey! That's not very nice! Just be glad Grandpa Slendy found you before Zalgo and his minions."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Don't worry about it." A timid voice came from a boy around Jeff's age, although he was shorter than him, wearing a tan jacket and an ominous black and white mask. "Just know that for now you're safe."

"Safe?! Safe?! From what?! Who the f-" He broke into a fit of coughing, like at the well, and he became aware of a splitting headache.

Another figure, around the same height and build as the one in a mask, silently extended an arm to help. He wore a tan hoodie pulled low over his face, and black gloves. His face was also veiled in black. Any patch of skin or human features were carefully hidden. In his hand he held a bottle of prescription pills.

"Human," huffed the last of the figures around the couch. He was tall, but not impossibly, and wore dark clothes and a black hoodie. He spoke quietly but didn't sound like he could be any older than his twenties. His skin was an inhuman grey, but what really caught Jeff's attention was the circular blue mask around his face, with black eyes that secreted a black substance almost like tears. He didn't say anything else to further elaborate the one word.

_For now._

A deep, booming voice pounded in his head. Everyone else must've heard it as well for they stood immediately at attention. Jeff didn't dare glance behind him.

His coughing was getting worse. The static was coming back. The hooded figure waved the bottle of pills in front of him persistently.

_Take the medication from Hoodie, Jeffery, or else you will faint a second time._

Jeff caved and snatched the bottle. Hoodie stepped back at attention with the others.

Jeff downed a couple of the pills, expecting the worst. It was probably something hardcore. Or maybe roofies. He didn't have much of a choice. _Anything_ stop the coughing and the pain.

Surprisingly, he felt better.

Still- what the hell?

"What have you people done to me?" he asked, voice trembling a little from the damage he must've done to his larynx.

_Apologies, child. I have an effect on humans that is difficult to suppress._

"He's right behind me, isn't he," Jeff addressed the odd group of kids in halloween costumes in front of him. "That thing from the woods."

Only Hoodie answered. Silently, he pointed. Jeff slowly turned around.

_Do not be alarmed, child._ The tall, pale, slender man said, if that word could be applied to a man - or being - without a face, let alone a mouth to speak. _We did not bring you here to harm you._

"Who are you!" Jeff demanded. Now that he was feeling stable he could fight. He stood, ready to challenge him. "What do you want from me! Tell me, or I swear I'll-" His knife wasn't in his pocket. If he could find it he might be able to escape-

It took all three of the masked/hooded guys to subdue him again, forcing him back onto the couch. The little girl skipped over to the tall man and watched, looking amused.

"Idiot," the blue masked one muttered as he struggled, again only uttering one word.

"Calm down," the one in the black and white mask pleaded with him. "We brought you here for your own good. It's much better than the alternative. Trust me."

"You're not making and sense!" Jeff argued. "Why should I trust you! You kidnapped me! You're drugging me! Do you have any idea who I am- ?!"

_Jeffery Woods, nineteen years old, otherwise known as Jeff the Killer._

Jeff stopped struggling, listening. The tall man continued.

_You moved into a new town at thirteen and suffered life-threatening attacks from a group of local bullies, along with other, more strange phenomena. You managed to dispatch most of them, but one succeeded in setting you aflame with bleach and alcohol. The effect was a strange white burn and charcoal-black hair. You cut that smile into your face and burned off your eyelids before proceeding to murder your entire family. That was six years ago._

Jeff sat still, watching the tall man warily. The others decided he wasn't going to move and stepped away. Hoodie gave him a meaningful point as if to say, 'stay.'

_We've been watching you for a long time._

"Why?" Jeff asked, now as suspicious as he was defensive.

_You have potential. You could be a great asset to us._

Jeff snorted with teenage disdain. "What makes you think I would help you?"

"Grandpa Slendy hasn't been the only one keeping an eye on you," the little girl chimed in. Jeff mustered the urge to bluntly point out that he had no eyes. "And you sure don't wanna get stuck with them, _believe_ me."

"Who exactly is 'them'?" Jeff asked, quickly getting annoyed with cryptic answers.

_Zalgo._

Something about the name hushed the entire room. It seemed darker. Colder. The unmistakable shudder of fear.

" . . . Who is Zalgo?" Jeff asked, not sure why he felt wary.

_Only time here will give you the answers that you seek._

Suddenly Jeff felt an unfamiliar chill. It had been years since he'd felt it, so it took a moment to place. It was the chill of uncertainty. _'Time here?'_ But . . . where exactly . . . was here? . . .

_Welcome to the Under-Realm, Jeffery. Welcome to your new home._

**Looks like Jeff has some investigating to do. Not everyday a teenage serial killer wakes up in another realm with a bunch of monsters! The interrogation will continue soon!**


End file.
